


Love in the Shape of Things

by redcurlzbychoice



Series: (From the Earth below to the Heavens above) That‘s how Far and Funny is Love [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley‘s London Flat, Declarations Of Love, First Time, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Longing, Lots of Fluff Still, Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene, a Twin Pair of tiniest Kisses, a lot of Innuendo too, enticed Aziraphale, reassuring Crowley, tight embraces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 15:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21448408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcurlzbychoice/pseuds/redcurlzbychoice
Summary: They went into Crowley’s office first and Aziraphale, while taking in the bareness and pompousness of the room, started to become more and more uneasy.„So, this is you...your place?“ He tried but failed to hide his confusion.„‘f course not. Angel! Think!!!“ Crowley, still confused, too, but for very different reasons, was surprisingly hurt by this remark. „Aziraphale, mind, demons would show up in here once in a while, I had to keep up standards!!! D‘you think I‘d be laying lace doilies and stuff?“„Oh, if you‘d only asked me I could‘ve told you a few very nice places where to get them!“ Aziraphale positively sparkeled at him with jest.Crowley was too surprised to be hurt anymore.How many more new layers yet would his Angel reveal tonight?—————————————In which Aziraphale explores Crowley’s flat for the first time.Features mutinying house plants, a twin pair of tiniest kisses, tight embraces and a lot of innuendo caused by a very compelling statue. THAT compelling statue precisely.—————————————
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: (From the Earth below to the Heavens above) That‘s how Far and Funny is Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535789
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83





	Love in the Shape of Things

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of yet another author’s venture on that bus scene post-Armageddon and what will follow...  
Titles by courtesy of the unrivalled Mr. Freddie Mercury. May he party in peace.

„So, my place then?“ Crowley asked cautiously, still full of apprehension that this unprecedented, incredible reciprocated love might break and leave him in pieces and nothingness.  
Aziraphale however couldn’t have been more adamant: „Your place and our side sounds just perfect to me!“

They had just got off the Oxford bus which had stopped for no particular reason exactly outside Crowley‘s London flat, after a bus ride in which they had been so close to each other, in body and in mind, as never before.

It was still dark, all the other passengers had hardly stirred in their sleepy lovely dreams, and the bus driver seemed to be in some kind of a trance (which was correct, he indeed was in a trance). It had tranquily entered his mind to persue his neglected talent for goldsmithing, take another course maybe and one day design and craft the rings for The Royal Baby’s wedding. He was so cought up in his thoughts that he never realized where he stopped, or what these two lovebirds that got off really looked like, and actually soon had forgotten about them and this whole little detour completely.  
But as his trance was of the previsionary kind and anyways, it was a day for dreams to eventually come true, some decades later Aziraphale would be wheedling Crowley into watching the Royal Wedding service on telly with him and, while gloriously rejoicing over the lovely Royal Couple (whereas Crowley rather more laid back rejoiced over his Angel practically bouncing up and down on the sofa with glee), the angel would with a small squeak be pointing to the Couple‘s wedding bands that looked like wings intertwined.

Hand in hand they climbed up the stairs to Crowley‘s flat but when they had reached his front door Crowley hesitated.  
„Mmm, ‘m sorry, place looks awful, ’m sure, y‘ know, left in a hurry and...“ Crowley hemmed and hawed. ’t was the first time ever, after all, that Aziraphale would see his proverbial demon‘s lair, and suddenly he felt so self-conscious as never before in his long existence. He took off his sunglasses, useless now that they had reached this stage of privacy, and nearly cracked them in his free hand in this undemonic bout of nerves.  
Aziraphale regarded him with amazement. „Do you seriously think I would mind how your place looks...? Like you NEVER set foot in my crowded shop?“  
„Mmh, actually, I‘ve always liked it better for the clutter and stuff,“ Crowley mumbled and smiled crookedly at Aziraphale. „It‘s ... cosy. It‘s like you.“  
One could have imagined the demon to blush slightly, but of course demons never blush (but also most definitely demons never are head over wings in love with an angel, so that much about that ...).

They smiled at each other full of knowing and both bodies tingled all over, Crowley‘s because that’s what happens when blood vessels happily dilate and Aziraphale‘s because that‘s what happens when hairs stand on end out of sheer happiness, but then Crowley swallowed hard and was dead serious again:  
„Err, There‘s this - thing, y’ know, ’m sorry, there‘s, err, ... still a puddle of Ligur-goo on the door step. ‘m not sure how to get over it. Could you, ... would you mind, please, Aziraphale...?“  
The front door knew very well when it was expected to open, which was exactly now, and both of them got a clear view of the mess on the doorstep to the next room.  
„Oh, I see what you mean. Let‘s.“ Aziraphale looked down on the remains of Ligur which glistened opalescent in the fair and embery light both of them were still emitting, and suddenly couldn’t help but shudder with horror.  
„Imagine that this might have been you! Oh, Crowley! I can‘t, I cannot bear to even think about it!“  
„Angel, told you, I wouldn‘t use it on myself. You could‘ve trusted me on that from the start.“ And then at last he did what he immediately had longed to do all those years ago: Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale and gently embraced him so tight as if he wanted to make up for all the worries he had raised in his Angel over so many decades.  
„I would’ve never left you if I could’ve helped it. And I never will. That’s a promise.“  
And they stood and Crowley buried his face in the angel’s hair and gingerly breathed the tiniest of kisses into his curls. And Aziraphale leaned in to him and tenderly embraced him back and Crowley‘s unnecessary heart skipped a few beats and fancied itself as the most important organ of the whole demonic body, and it was not dead but very alive on.

After a long while the angel stirred and mumbled „I‘d better get that goo off so we can go inside, don’t you think...?“  
„Oh, yeah, please, if you would be so kind and...“ Crowley stumbled, not sure though if he was already willing to let go of their embrace. But Aziraphale smiled softly and slid out of Crowley‘s arms which suddenly felt very useless.  
„Of course, love.“ And with a snip of the angel‘s fingers the goo was gone.  
Crowley took in a deep breath and resolved to take the next step.  
„After you, my Angel.“  
„Oh, yes, indeed,“ Aziraphale shot one reminiscent glance at Crowley, and wasn’t there a hint of a novel inviting glint in his eyes? „Get thee with me, delightful friend!“  
And Aziraphale took the hand of his Demon and together they took the giant leap over the threshold, although it was only a small step.

They went into Crowley’s office first and Aziraphale, while taking in the bareness and pompousness of the room, started to become more and more uneasy. „So, this is you...your place?“ He tried but failed to hide his confusion.  
„‘f course not. Angel! Think!!!“ Crowley, still confused, too, but for very different reasons, was surprisingly hurt by this remark. „Aziraphale, mind, demons would show up in here once in a while, I had to keep up standards!!! D‘you think I‘d be laying lace doilies and stuff?“  
„Oh, if you‘d only asked me I could‘ve told you a few very nice places where to get them!“ Aziraphale positively sparkeled at him with jest.  
Crowley was too surprised to be hurt anymore. How many more new layers yet would his Angel reveal tonight? And then Aziraphale fully soothed his apprehension when he added in his more usual considerate manner „No, of course not, my dearest. I’m sorry. So silly of me to even think of such a thing.“  
„Ngk, it‘s okay. You’re right. Place is bare. Y‘know, I‘ve never really lived in here. I just stayed. That‘s why I liked to come over to your shop. That’s what felt like home. To me. With you.“ His lips again turned into this crooked smile that Aziraphale found oh so endearing, especially now that he realised it would sneak onto Crowley’s face when he‘d make yet another confession of himself being so hopelessly in love all these years.

Aziraphale fully turned to Crowley and pecked a twin of this tiniest kiss he had recieved from Crowley on the demon‘s cheek, leaving Crowley stunned once more.  
„Do you mind if I have a look around?“  
„Hbwfffgh, errrfff, sssure. Feel yourssself home,“ Crowley managed to sizzle and slouched against the nearest wall, his legs suddenly not holding his weight anymore while his cheek was feeling grilled to rather well done.

He watched Aziraphale leisurely strolling around, with his fingers skimming over the surfaces of various pieces of furniture (oh, he longed to be his sofa right now!) and eying the stylish interior design.

As Crowley had supposed, Aziraphale first was drawn to his Mona Lisa, of course. „Oh, my dearest, that‘s an original sketch, isn‘t it? Now look at that smile!“  
„Hmbf, Leo himself thought this was the better one...“ Crowley heard himself say.  
„Oh, indeed, you were friends with Signor da Vinci?“  
„Hmm, he was a very keen mind. Got another one of his originals around, if you want to see it later...“  
„Oh, I‘d LOVE to! Where is it?“  
Crowley suddenly nearly choked. Only now he realised that the way he had steered the conversation would seem so embarrassingly obvious.  
„B...bedroom...“ he at last forced himself to croak.

„Oh, really? Mind, I‘d surely love to see that, dear!“ Aziraphale beamed back at him, and something in Crowley’s head became very light and dizzy because he wasn‘t sure what exactly his Angel was referring to. What disheveled him most was the simple question if his Angel was actually aware at all of the fact that his sentence might imply more than just the appreciation of a fine piece of art and especially how this inculpable semantic vagueness caused Crowley’s imagination to run wild.

Aziraphale indeed seemed completely oblivious to the turmoil he had caused in his Demon.  
He had just spotted the greenroom in the hallway and was instantly drawn to the plants that were growing so lustrously under Crowley‘s care.  
„Oh, aren‘t you lovely, my dear! Now look at you, with all your broad leaves! Oh, dear, you really are cheeky, trying to tickle me, aren’t you?“ He walked among the plants that seemed to incline to him, trying to fondle the angel with their leaf tips while Aziraphale likewise caressed their leaves with the tips of his fingers and purred appreciative little affirmations of their beautiful growth and glorious shapes.  
„Oh, what a nice shade of green you’re putting forth. And aren‘t you sprouting a bud just here. Oh, Crowley, look!“ he exclaimed thrilledly, „this Strelitzia is actually opening up a flower! You surely know they‘re called ‚Bird-of-Paradise-Flowers‘? Of ‚Paradise‘! Oh, you must be such a kind gardener to encourage them to grow in such a voluptuous way!“

Crowley was lost for words. This was a mutiny! Nothing less than a bloody uprising! His plants that he had reared with so much effort and asperity to make them grow at their best were basically defecting to this angel they had known for barely a minute, and they brought forth blossoms they had denied their master for years just at the vibrancy of the angelic praise!

But before Crowley grew fully aware that he indeed was getting rock bottom jealous of his plants (and yes, of course he damn well knew the plants were only basking in the love that he so much craved for himself) Aziraphale‘s gaze was clearly entranced to the statue that was placed at the end of the hallway.

„Oh.“ Just an ‚Oh.‘ But then, slowly, cautiously „What‘s this supposed to depict?“ he asked.  
Crowley tried his best to cover the sudden fulminant flutter of his heart by answering lightly „Hmm, that‘s Good and Evil wrestling, with evil triumphing. The eternal struggle, y‘know.“  
„Are you certain that they‘re wrestling...?“ Aziraphale asked in a very faint voice, still not being able to get his eyes off the sculpture, his feet being drawn from the attention craving plants to the compelling statue until his fingers were able to skim lightly over the wings of the upper figure. To add, even more slowly and in a way that Crowley could clearly feel his Angel‘s brain grinding and shifting in an effort to come to terms with some probably novel but definitely overwhelming sensations and thoughts, „Well, you being a demon and with other demons stopping by sometimes... you of course would choose Evil to be on top, wouldn’t you?“  
„Nngkh, sure, with others nosing in, hmmf, Evil on top.“ Crowley heard himself splutter, his own gaze drawn in to Aziraphale‘s fingers fondling the wings of the demon figure. And then, and he didn‘t know where that came from, „But ’f course, you being of the Good Ones, you‘d probably prefer if Evil was bottom, so to say, Good to come, err, out on top, that is, to get off .. the stain of Evil, to ...“ he trailed off, his tongue twisting and jerking around the words that had just spilled out of his mouth.  
He looked Aziraphale into his face, but Aziraphale‘s eyes still seemed glued to this particular statue. Very interested. Exceedingly interested. Crowley followed his gaze and saw the angel’s fingers still moving slowly all the way up to the tip of the wings. Very slowly. Longingly. The Angel‘s face was concentrated, focused inwards, and quite evidently cherishing these new sensations.

Aziraphale looked up at the exactly same instant as Crowley, and their eyes met.  
„Angel, whatever you...“  
„Well, first of all I‘d like to have some breakfast, if you don‘t mind. Would you happen to have anything edible around?“

„Whoa....? WHATT....? It’ssss the middle of the night ...?“

Crowley’s mind ran loose, trying to make ANY sense of his Angel’s conduct. Just what the bloody whatever had happened here? Aziraphale’s demeanour had been alluring, if not downright seductive, at least that‘s what his poor mind and body had responded to. And now FOOD? Going back to their usual routine? Full stop? Back to „too fast“? But Aziraphale had been setting the pace, hadn’t he? Or had he himself messed it up by too much innuendo?

This time Aziraphale clearly sensed that Crowley was in uproar. It wasn‘t hard to depict, really. Crowley was shaking, his pupils again dilated so wide Aziraphale could see his own reflection in them and he definitely couldn’t hide his hiss when speaking anymore.

Aziraphale blushed very deeply and Crowley realised that although his Angel was sure enough of his feelings to announce his love openly, it was still some way to go until he would feel comfortable enough with the more sensual implications of the sentiment. Blasted uptight religious upbringing, or rather existence. Blasted straitlaced Archangels and their prudish narrow views. Blasted heavenly attitude of putting pious adoration and glory over devoted love and fulfilment.

Pulling himself together, Crowley managed to reassure his Angel and himself,  
„‘sssss alright, ffffine, Angel, whatevvver you need... Whatevvver you want. Whenevver you want whatever, really. ’s fine. ’s fine.“ And solely in his whole expression, with a perfection acquired in millenia to voice love, acception and patience without words, he added in sonorous silence, ‚I‘m here, Angel. I‘ll wait. As I‘ve always done. As I always will.‘

The appreciative and alleviated smile Aziraphale bestowed on him was all the affirmation he needed that every one of his tidings was well-received, and had been much required indeed.

„C‘mon, Angel, let‘s go to the kitchen and see if there‘s something for you to munch on. You truly are the most self-indulgent being when it comes to food,“ Crowley said with a tender smile and held out his hand for the angel.

Aziraphale took it and their fingers interlaced. Crowley relaxed with a small sigh, having been somewhat anxious how his Angel would respond to any bodily contact at the moment. And when Aziraphale responded completely at ease again by saying „And you truly are the most indulgent being when it comes to love,“ there was really nothing else Crowley could do but with a soft cry embrace his Angel once again and hold him oh so close to his heart and with a quavering voice he stuttered into his curls „I love you. I love you so much. Always have. Always will,“ again and again and again as if it was the only salvation from drowning.  
„I know, my dearest. And I love you too.“ Aziraphale looked up into Crowley’s dilated eyes and smiled. Then, with a small sigh of his own, he leaned his head in to his Demon’s heaving chest and eagerly got himself accustomed to savouring in his bodily presence and his condimental smell.

After a fleeting eternity Aziraphale all of a sudden started to laugh, a small, loving and a little self-conscious giggle.  
„Hmmm?“ muttered Crowley, calmed by savouring this unequalled aziraphalic balm of his Angel.  
„I‘m so utterly sorry, my dearest, but you smell so undeniably delicious, like roast apples, with just a dash of cinnamon, really, and I just cannot disavow the fact anymore that I‘m genuinely hungry. Actually I feel quite a little...“ and there the angel again blushed, but Crowley sensed this novel cheekiness was slowly sneaking back into the angel‘s eyes „- desirous ... for a treat ... to eat ...“ He put up his right palm over his Demon‘s heart, which definitely started to flutter like a whole flock of starlings. „Would you mind if you‘d introduce me to your kitchen? We can proceed with the cuddling later on, can‘t we? Maybe I‘ll be able to find something that you’ll find appetising, too.“ And he took off his palm again though his fingertips lingered just this tiny amount of time longer on Crowley’s chest than necessary to make Crowley gasp.  
„Oh, sure, Angel, I‘m sure you will!“ the demon said full of amazement once he had gathered his senses, while a cheeky smile sneaked back onto his face, too.

After all what had happened this evening Crowley felt he‘d be blastingly blessed if he had any clue at all anymore where his Angel was getting to, pursuing this meandering path of his love slowly and tentatively. But well, if that‘d be the way his Angel would go, he‘d be there to follow his every step. And knowing Aziraphale for six millennia, he surely wouldn’t be damned if he might be in for even some more surprises tonight.

„

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this took me a while.
> 
> The start of the dialogue about THAT Statue is of course quoted from Neil Gaiman himself:  
‚The statue in Crowley’s flat. „it represents,“ said the Production Designer, Michael Ralph, „Good and evil wrestling with evil triumphing.“ „...are you certain that they‘re wrestling?“ I asked.‘
> 
> Only yesterday, when this was already written, dear J. fed me with an addition (re-blogged, so I doubt the authenticity...): 
> 
> ‚„Well now that you‘ve said that I‘m certain they’re not, but that makes me even more convinced that Crowley should have it,“ said Michael Ralph. „Fair enough,“ I said, and then we stared at it for ten minutes, lost in thought, until David Tennant asked what we were doing and we abruptly tried to look very busy.‘
> 
> Works for me!!  
Great man anyway, NG, love his work, his wit and sense of humour.  
And a thousand kudos to Michael Ralph and the whole Production Design. They put so much detail in everything.  
Anyway, lots of kudos to anyone who worked on the show.  
And to this delightful fandom, too.
> 
> Thanks again to Dear J. for betaing, constructive annotations and lots of great links!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing. There is yet more in my head, which eventually will be out there.


End file.
